Echoes of Evening
by TheGryfter
Summary: It was just a phone call. One of many she'd had with The Blur. But after breaking up with Clark, can Lois hide her pain from the man she's supposed to turn to in a crisis? And can Clark keep up the facade, when he knows he's the reason for her tears?
1. Prologue

…**echoes of evening…**

…**prologue**…

_Friday Night_

"Lois! Come back here!"

"Make me!"

"Oh, that's mature!"

"Screw you!"

"Again, the perfect adult response. I gotta say, you're handling this brilliantly."

"Save it, Clark. Why don't you just go pluck a cow, or milk a chicken, or something?"

"I think I'd get arrested."

"And I'd cry myself to sleep tonight."

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here!"

"We have to talk about this!"

"No, we don't!"

"Lois…"

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"You don't get to say my name like that! Not anymore!"

"I'm trying to explain…"

"I don't need your explanations. I don't need your excuses, and you know what, Clark? I don't need you."

"You're angry. I understand…"

"I don't think you do."

"I just think this is for the best…"

"Oh, that is such a…"

"What?"

"You're a coward."

"I'm trying to do what's best for both of us!"

"And this is it? This is your idea of a better way?"

"Yes! If we can just… sit down, and talk about it for two minutes. This doesn't have to be some big thing. We're still partners. We can still be friends."

"No, we can't. I can't even stand to look at you right now."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, yes I do. You sicken me."

"Lois, please…"

"We were happy, Clark! Okay? We were happy!"

"I know…"

"So what changed? What happened between last night and this morning that ripped that apart?"

.

.

.

"Great… that's just… great. See you around, Smallville…"


	2. Through The Wall

…**through the wall**…

_Saturday Night_

Noel Delaney was seventy-six years old.

A long time resident of Apartment 3B in an old-school brick faced complex just three blocks over from the Metropolis riverfront, she quite enjoyed her waning years. Her home was far enough away from the bustling city centre, as well as the trendy shore district that even a Saturday evening could be spent in quiet solitude.

Her routine was quite set, as, she supposed, would be expected of someone her age. She'd be done with dinner by seven, followed by a leisurely bath before a round of phone calls to her grandchildren before they stepped out for the evening. She'd make herself a cup of sweet tea, and relax in her armchair, just in time to watch her beloved Metropolis Wildcats take on the Lakers or the Sonics on ESPN. It was her routine, her point of comfort, and she never wavered from it.

Only… tonight was different.

Her peace was disturbed by a strange warbling emanating from the apartment next door. Placing her tea on the little side table, Noel shuffled over to the wall and pressed her ear against it.

Music, she realised, after honing in on the source of the sound. Someone singing along to music.

Noel was surprised. Her neighbour, a lovely young lady… _what was her name? _She worked as a reporter as far as Noel could recall. Anyway, she hadn't been a nuisance since she moved in. There were the usual ambient sounds of the television, and so on, but nothing to this degree.

Lois! That was her name! Lois Lane!

She was a dear, in fact. Much better than the girl who'd lived there before. Oh, that one was trouble from the start. Different men parading in and out of her apartment all the live long day. Terrible screaming matches, followed by…

Noel backed away, confused. She suddenly realised what was going on next door. Noel had experienced it enough with… with… Tina! Tina Tribiani, that vixen! After every fight with that week's boyfriend, Noel would find herself on this side of the wall on a Saturday night while Trina lay in her bathtub, singing along to sad music.

Noel hated the thought of Lois going through something like that. She hadn't expected it, that was for sure. Lois' young man was such a polite, caring boy. He always held the elevator for her, and never failed to carry her groceries into her apartment whenever he saw Noel in the lobby. He'd introduced himself once.

Clark Kent.

Noel was even more surprised that his name sprang so readily to mind. Well-mannered, well-groomed, well brought up, she'd thought, upon meeting him. Noel wouldn't have pegged him as the type of man to hurt young Lois. Yet, apparently, that was what he'd done. Noel had been around long enough to trust not only her judgement, but her instincts.

She backed away from the wall, unwilling to intrude on the girl's pain. She would get though this. If Noel knew anything, it was that Lois Lane was a fighter.

Suddenly, Noel paused as the individual words of the song began to filter through. She smiled. It was a sad song, admittedly, but the lyrics were also defiant. They spoke of heartache and moving on without missing a beat.

"That's my girl…" she whispered, as she returned to her tea.


	3. Distant Connection

…**distant connection**…

"_We promised to have… We promised to hold… How does a promise… Ever get old…?"_

Lois always found that a lingering bubble bath was a good refuge. You could soak in the tub and let your feelings out, because you would never be able to tell just where your tears began. Lying back, she surveyed the landscape of dancing bubbles on the surface of the water. A glittering mass that seemed to twirl in the dancing light of the single candle. Shadows moved on the wall like restless ghosts, and she sank a bit deeper. The song bled out from the speaker hooked up to her iPod, and she let the music carry her…

"_So listen, baby… I'm gonna get back on my feet… Tuck this old shirt in… And wipe the crimson off my cheek… Remember these secrets, were all that I kept… As I pull out this driveway, and hang a hard left…"_

Lois hooked her big toe around the chain and pulled the plug. She stepped out of the tub, wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. She was glad the mirror had steamed up. She wouldn't have to look at herself.

She made her way to the bedroom, flinging open her closet. Socks, underwear, sweatpants… easy enough to decide on. Then she hit a snag. On a night like tonight, Lois wanted comfort. Something big and soft that she could almost drown in. Her eyes fell on the third shelf, and a pile of Clark's old jerseys and sweatshirts. They made up the entirety of Lois' night-time wear these days. The Smallville Crows football jersey, the plaid button-down and even his treasured Christmas sweater, knitted for him by Martha Kent. It was pale blue, with little snowflakes on it. Lois had fallen in love with it the minute she saw it, and Clark had known the sweater was his no more.

Angry now, Lois turned to her own stuff, but could find nothing more suitable than a faded Metropolis Sharks replica shirt. Just not good enough.

"The hell with it…" she muttered, "_He _broke up with me! No need for me to suffer more than I have to!"

In a fit of defiance she grabbed his football jersey and swiftly dressed. She hustled out to the kitchen, automatically turning on the coffee-maker. As the java brewed she dug a bowl out of the cupboard, filling it with a liberal amount of cocoa-puffs. She added milk, sugar, and three dollops of mocha ice-cream to the mix. After fixing a mug of coffee she retired to the couch, flipping on the TV. She'd hooked up her DVD before her bath, so she was already set.

_When Harry Met Sally_.

A classic break-up flick, in Lois' opinion. Snarky, funny, and touched with just the right amount of nostalgia and sadness. Lois Lane did not do _Beaches _to dodge her pain. In fact, the sight of Bette Midler in a weepy, whiny, endless suck-fest would most likely induce a homicidal rage – the end result of which would have her father jetting in from whatever corner of the world to bail her out of prison for burying Clark in a hayfield.

Lois munched on the cocoa puffs as she watched the opening scenes. She was staring hard at the screen, determined to focus on the movie and not let her mind wander. If it did, it would end up in Smallville. In the blue-green eyes of the boy who'd torn her world apart.

No!

She was Lois Lane. She would not give him the satisfaction of wallowing too much. She would have her requisite girl's night in, eating food that wasn't good for her, listening to music that would normally make her barf, watching Billy Crystal pretend to be a romantic lead alongside Meg Ryan, who always looked doe-eyed, whether she meant to or not.

That was it!

Nothing more!

**HARRY: **You realise, of course, that we can never be friends.

** SALLY: **What do you mean?

** HARRY: **What I'm saying – and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form – is that men and women can never be friends. The sex part always gets in the way.

"Oh, God…" Lois muttered, the spoon clinking into the bowl.

Why, oh why, had she thought this would be a good idea? The movie itself was conspiring against her, leading her inexorably into the Land of Wallow.

Not good. Not good. Not good!

**HARRY: **The sex thing is already out there, so the friendship is ultimately doomed, and that's the end of the story.

**SALLY:** Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then…

"_I need a hero! I'm holdin' on for a hero 'til the end of the night!"_

Lois jumped, spilling cocoa puffs on her sweatpants. Her phone had lit up on the coffee table, and was now vibrating in slow circles.

"_He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's got to be up to the…"_

She lurched forward and grabbed it, hitting pause on the DVD and sliding the phone open to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Miss Lane?"

Lois felt a familiar rush of cool delight sweep up the centre of her spine at the sound of his voice. Every time. Every time she spoke to him it was the same. There was just something about the Blur… about the way he chose to talk to _her_ that thrilled her – igniting some part of her that wanted to shout it to the world, and keep it all to herself, all at once.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, "Is there something going on? Something you needed to warn me about?"

"Uh… no," he said, "I was just, uh… I was…"

Lois frowned. He was stammering. It threw her for a second. The Blur never stammered.

"I was just… checking in," he said.

"Oh," said Lois, "Why?"

There was silence on the end of the line. Lois' confusion deepened. It was like he didn't know how to answer the question.

.

.

.

Unbeknownst to her, on the rooftop across the street, Clark was pulling a face and smacking himself in the head repeatedly.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ he chided himself, silently.

Why had he felt the need to call Lois? Why had he not expected her to stump him with the most mundane of questions thirteen seconds into the conversation?

"No reason," he said, at last, "I just… wanted to find out how you are. If you're okay."

"I'm fine," said Lois. He could hear the lie in her voice, "Just… hanging out."

"Oh? Doing what?" Clark tried his best to sound nonchalant.

He didn't know what it would sound like over the voice-modifier hooked up to the phone, but he hoped it would translate.

"Watching a movie," she replied, "Listen, are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"Everything's fine, Miss Lane," he said, "It's pretty quiet tonight."

"Really?" Lois sounded amused, "How often does that happen?"

"Not enough," he admitted.

"So you just called to chat? For no reason?"

"Does there have to be a reason?" asked Clark

He had to concentrate on being 'The Blur' when he spoke to her like this. He always had to keep an image in his head of the type of person Lois thought the Blur was, and live up to it. It took some doing.

"You're lonely."

Clark blinked. For some reason, he was gripping the phone tighter all of a sudden. He forced himself to relax, and ease his grip, before he shattered it.

"Excuse me?"

"I told you before…" she said, "Even the fastest blur in the world can't outrun loneliness."

Clark approached the edge of the roof. He could see into her window across the street. He didn't have to engage his x-ray vision at all. She was on her couch, one leg tucked in beneath her, wearing his old football jersey. Her hair was up, but a stray strand cut across her cheek. He watched as she lifted her hand and swept the offending lock behind her ear. The gesture, so simple, so achingly familiar, caused a knot in his stomach and he had to turn away.

"I shouldn't have called," he said, "Goodbye, Miss Lane."

"No, wait!" she said, quickly, "If you want to talk, we can talk."

"You sure?"

Forcing himself to keep his back to her, Clark sat down on the edge of the low wall that ran the circuit of the roof.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," said Clark, "I don't… do this much. What movie were you watching?"

"_When Harry Met Sally_. It's this cheesy nineties rom-com about…"

"I love that movie."

The words were out before Clark even knew what happened. He clamped his mouth shut, hoping she hadn't noticed.

.

.

.

In her apartment, Lois sat up. A surprised, almost disbelieving smile pulling at her lips.

"You do?" she said, "Sorry if this sounds rude, but… I really can't picture you watching _When Harry Met Sally_."

"Why not?"

"Just…" she said, then, realising that wasn't enough, "It's such a… such a…"

"Human thing to do?"

"You're not human?"

.

.

.

Back across the street, Clark was slapping himself again. This was the danger of talking to Lois. His brain tended to disengage.

"Let's just say… I'm different."

.

.

.

"I'll say."

Lois grabbed her empty mug and made her way into the kitchen. She turned on the tap to rinse it out.

"I do watch television, though."

"So you have a home?"

"Yes."

"Family?"

There was no response. Lois closed the tap and waited.

Nothing.

"I'm sorry,' she said, "That was too personal."

"It's okay."

"Why do you like that movie?" she asked, eager to get the conversation going again.

"It's surprisingly honest – for it's type," he said, "A man and a woman… and their friendship over many years. It… appealed to me."

"Favourite part?"

"Well, there are so many to choose from…"

Lois laughed. She grabbed the pot and refilled her mug. She ladled in a few spoons of sugar and stirred slowly.

"Don't tell me it's the fake-orgasm scene," she warned him, "Anything but the fake-orgasm scene."

"That was funny!"

"I know! But that would be such a guy response, and you're supposed to be better than that!"

"I think you expect too much of me."

Lois couldn't be sure, but she detected a hint of… sorrow, in that last statement. She wondered why that was, but decided not to push for an explanation. Instead, she returned to the couch.

"What part, then?" she asked.

"Their argument about _Casablanca_," he said, "The way they'd call each other whenever it was on, and watch it together. Talking on the phone as the movie played."

Lois found herself smiling. It was a strange sensation, on today of all days.

"Kinda like we're doing now?"

"Yes,' he said, "Like we're doing now."

Lois bit her lip, trying to smother the smile, but it just wouldn't go away. Her heartbeat spiked. They hadn't really talked about anything of substance and yet she felt that this conversation was somehow... intimate. That made it all the more difficult when he said:

"Miss Lane, I have to go."

"What? Right now?" Lois fought to keep the disappointment out of her voice, "Okay. I guess I…"

"There's an alarm on the East Side," he explained, "I'll call you back when I've dealt with it."

Then he was gone. Lois frowned, and closed the phone.

Typical, she thought. Just when you start to get somewhere with a guy…

She picked up her remote, getting ready to turn on the movie again, when…

"_I need a hero…"_

Lois grinned, and picked up the phone.

"That was quick."

"I'm sorry about that, Miss Lane," he said, "Armed robbery at a jewellery store."

"You don't have to call me that, you know?"

'Excuse me?"

"We've been talking long enough for you to call me Lois."

"Lois…"

Again, Lois couldn't be certain, but she thought she caught a hint of… longing in his voice when he said her name.

"Better…" she said, swallowing hard.

"One second, Lois."

This time he didn't hang up. She heard a gust of wind, a startled shout, and then he was back.

"Mugging," he explained.

"Why do they still bother?" she asked, "Every criminal in the city knows you're out there, but they still insist on trying their luck."

"For some, it's their nature," he said, "Others are forced into it. Poverty… desperation… You'd be surprised what some people will do when they think they have no choice."

"I doubt it," said Lois, "I've seen enough evidence of it all on my own."

"Your job does tend to get a little… dangerous."

"Oh no…" said Lois.

"What?"

"I know that tone. You're going to tell me I take too many risks. That I put myself in danger."

"I wasn't going to do that," he said, a little too quickly.

"Yes, you were," she said, "You can't fool me. I've heard it from Clark enough to..."

Lois broke off.

From out of the blue, the mere mention of Clark sent a bolt straight through her. Just when thoughts of him were starting to fade.

"Lois…? Lois, are you there?"

"Yeah, um…" she pulled herself together, "I'm here. Sorry about that."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Lois… you can talk to me."

.

.

.

Clark held his breath. He didn't know what compelled him to say that. This was pushing it. Talking to her about Clark, as the Blur, was a line he didn't want to cross. But he couldn't help himself. Even though he knew it would be taking advantage of her trust, he had to know that she would be okay.

"I've had a tough couple of days," she said, at last.

"What happened?"

"The usual," she replied, resorting to her customary flippancy, "I opened up to someone and took one in the teeth."

"I'm sorry," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else.

"It's okay. I'll get through it."

"I'm sure you will."

"Have you ever been in love?"

Clark froze. He felt his breathing go ragged, and suddenly he was turning, facing back across the street. She was off the couch, standing at the window. One hand toyed idly with the drapes as she gazed out into the street. The very sight of her almost stopped his heart. Clark opened his mouth to respond – with what he didn't know – but no sound escaped. He just stared at her, looking so ridiculously small in his jersey, and yet… so sexy.

"Is that even possible for you?" she asked, "You have so many responsibilities. The fate of the city, the country… I think, sometimes, even the world depends on you. Can you even… know that with one person?"

"I hoped for it…" said Clark, a breath above a whisper, "Once…"

"What happened?"

"I realised that… who I am means I'd always put the ones I care about in danger. I can't escape it. So it's better to… pull back."

"No wonder you're lonely."

Clark grimaced, shutting his eyes in a vain attempt to block her out. It was useless. She was burned into his mind, into his soul. She always would be.

"I think… maybe I'm meant to be alone."

"I can't believe that," said Lois, "And you shouldn't either."

"I might not have a choice."

Lois didn't say anything for a while, and Clark just listened to her breathing. Even that was enough to leave his head spinning. Eventually, she let out a soft, wry chuckle.

"Wow…" she said, "This conversation got heavy pretty quickly."

"It's fine," said Clark, "I don't mind."

Clark was surprised to find that he meant it. Lois, though, backed away from the window and flopped down onto the couch.

"I don't think we know each other well enough for the whole… heart to heart thing," she said.

Clark shook his head. If only she knew.

"Okay,' he said, "So let's change that."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me about yourself."


	4. Hiding, Heartache, A Chance

…**hiding, heartache, a chance**…

"I was sixteen years old," said Lois, "There was this guy I liked. Tyler Ring. He was cute, funny… totally didn't give a damn that I was a tomboy and could most likely kick his ass!"

"Sounds like a rare breed," Clark chuckled.

"We dated for six months, which is rare enough for me. I'd been in the same school for a year, and I think that was some kind of record. Of course, just when I thought my life was getting somewhere near normal, the General got transferred."

"And you had to break up?"

"It tore me apart," she admitted, "One day I was doing all the things a normal girl would do – hanging with friends, going to the movies… and the next I'm in a new town, starting all over again."

"It must have been hard."

"It was. Which is why I decided I wasn't going to stand for it."

"What did you do?"

"I lit out of there," she said, "The thing you gotta understand about army bases is… in some areas, the security isn't exactly tight."

"Not something you want spread around."

"I mean it. In the officer quarter, they assume that once you're in, you're in. And they always have vehicles just standing around. I found a jeep, and just drove right on out."

"They let you through the gate?"

"You can do just about anything with a three-star general's ID tag," Lois laughed, "We hadn't been there long. They didn't really know me. They assumed I had permission to be off-base. I took off, and didn't stop until I was outside Tyler's house. Naturally, he was surprised to see me."

"Naturally."

"Not nearly a surprised as he was when a squadron showed up looking for me, armed to the teeth."

"Poor guy…"

"Yeah, well, he should have known what he was getting into when he decided to go out with Lois Lane."

"Lois, I don't think anybody could be prepared for that."

Lois grinned, and lay back on the couch. She curled her legs up over the back, crossing them at the ankles.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"You made this easier."

Thirty feet above her, on the stone bench that formed the centrepiece of her building's rooftop garden, Clark was on his back too. He kept his eyes fixed on the distant stars, his keen hearing turning the sound of her heartbeat into the soundtrack of the universe.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, Lois," he said, "But it'll all work out. This thing with your… ex. It'll pass."

"I hope so," she said, "I told him we couldn't even be friends."

"Did you mean it?"

"At the time."

"But not now."

"I've kept contact with an ex before," she said, "And, apart from one or two little stumbles, it's worked out fine."

"So…?"

"He's different."

Clark stopped breathing again. So much regret in her voice.

"Listen to me," said Lois, "I'm getting heavy again."

"Well, I think we exhausted all the small talk," said Clark.

"You mean I did," said Lois, "I told you about the time I tried to sell my sister to a couple in Sweden, the time I made a Marine cry, and the time I convinced a Provost-Marshal that a miniskirt is standard issue in the United States Army, but… you haven't told me a thing about yourself."

"Well… what do you want to know?"

"Why are you hiding?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why are you hiding?" she asked, again.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do. I'll admit you make an attempt to stand out a bit more lately – decorating the city with that symbol…"

"It's a shield," he explained, "My family crest."

"Well, that's one thing."

"One what?"

"One thing I know about you."

"You don't think I should do it?"

"I think you should do more," said Lois, "I know how scared you are. If you come out into the public eye, you open yourself up. You invite an attack. But the city needs to see your face."

"It's not just a baseless fear, Lois," he said, "Anyone who's ever found out about me… Let's just say it didn't end well."

"I'm just worried about you."

Clark was taken aback.

"Why?"

"Because… if you spend your life in the shadows… you'll never get to see the light."

Clark swallowed. She'd just voiced his deepest fear. All his life he'd felt like an outsider, hanging onto the fringes of life. In his darkest moments he'd wondered if that was where he was destined to stay. His double-life as the Blur and Clark Kent had eased that fear somewhat. But it was always there, lurking.

"I don't think that matters," he said, "As long as I help people."

"That can't be enough," Lois insisted, "Not nearly. How can you save people if you don't connect with them?"

"I connect with you."

"Do you?" she asked, "Really? I know you're using something to change your voice. Is that connecting? Yes, we talk, but… it's not real."

"Is that what you really think?"

"It is," she said, "I understand why you do it, but… walls are never good. They have a way of trapping you. You know how you're always trying to save, oh, everyone in the world…?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's going to save you?"

The stars blurred. Sudden tears sprang to his eyes, and their lustre disappeared. Clark wiped them away with the back of his hand. He had to breathe deep, trying to calm the sudden whirl of emotions twisting inside.

"Who says I need to be saved?"

"Obviously you do," she said, "Or you wouldn't have spent the last two hours talking to me."

Clark ran a weary hand over his face. That was the thing about Lois. It wasn't her stubbornness, or her recklessness, that took her places she shouldn't go. It was her heart. She'd sensed something in him. As Clark Kent, and the Blur, and she tried to draw him out. Make him feel wanted, at home, loved… She couldn't understand why he pushed her away.

Last night had been one of the most painful in Clark's life. When Lana left, he'd been devastated. Convinced he'd never feel such agony again.

He was wrong.

Ending things with Lois – knowing he was the cause – it was like a hole had been carved into his heart. It didn't matter that he had his reasons. It didn't matter that he believed his actions were in her best interest. Just the thought of not being able to hold her, to kiss her lips and smell the soft perfume of her hair, it felt like the first whisper of the grave.

It was what brought him here tonight. What made him call her. He'd told himself that the sound of her voice would be enough.

Again, he was wrong…

"I'm here for a purpose, Lois," he said, "I have a destiny. Some things are more important than what I want… what I love…"

"Finally," said Lois, "You answered my question."

"What question?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes," he croaked, "I have."

"Tell me about her…"

Clark hesitated. His thoughts were scattered. How to describe her - the impact she had on his life…? He might as well explain colours to a blind man.

"She's… everything," he said, at last, "Bright, stubborn, funny, gorgeous, talented, infuriating… pick an adjective – that's her."

"Did she love you?"

"I think so."

"But it wasn't enough?"

"Sometimes… even love isn't enough."

"It should be," now Lois was fighting her own tears, "I hate living in a world where it isn't. There shouldn't be anything capable of…"

Her voice trailed away to nothing.

"Lois?"

"I'm here," she said, "I just… I miss him."

"I miss her too."

Now Clark was angry. He surged to his feet, started pacing round the bench. He was hurting her. The very thing he sought to avoid. And yet, he couldn't put down the phone. He couldn't cut that last, vague connection he had to her.

"I don't know what to do," said Lois, "And if you knew me, you'd get how hard that is for me to admit."

"I get it," said Clark, "But you have to have faith."

"In what?"

"In love. That it will find a way."

"Now suddenly you're the believer?"

Clark chuckled, but the sound held no humour. He stared out over the blinking city lights, and searched inside himself for… something. Anything… to give her comfort.

"I think I believe because you believe," he said, "You make me stronger Lois Lane."

"What?"

Clark didn't respond. Suddenly, it was like he wasn't even seeing the city anymore. At least, not the way he had before. A veil he hadn't even been aware of was suddenly ripped aside, and… the light shone in.

"Answer the door," he said.

"What?"

"Answer the door."

.

.

.

Lois' phone beeped as the call was cut. She stared at it, trying to figure out what just happened. Something had shifted, she just didn't know what.

There was a knock at the door. Lois whipped her head around, her heart beating a staccato rhythm against her chest.

Was that him?

Was this is it?

Would she finally get to see his face?

This man, this… hero who carried the weight of the world yet still found the strength to keep fighting.

The knock came again.

On trembling legs she stood. Her feet made no sound as she crept across the floor, yet she was sure anyone within a mile could hear her strangled breathing and the echoes of her heart in the stillness of the night. Her hand hovered above the doorknob. She clenched her teeth, trying to stop it from shaking.

She opened the door.

"Clark…" she breathed.

He was dressed all in black, a long leather coat hanging from his broad shoulders. His shirt was black, but there… in the centre… was the faded silver shield that had come to mean hope to all those who cried out for saving.

She looked into his eyes. Eyes that had hovered before her whenever she dreamed about the future. They were hooded now. His expression was set, like a mask, determined to cloak the torrent that was raging inside.

He held out his hand.

"I brought this for you."

Lois took it. It was a bracelet. It looked like silver, but it caught the light in a strange way so that it glittered like a diamond. The centrepiece was a blue stone, set in an oval base. The stone seemed alive. Peering into it's depths she saw little flickers of… something… swirling in an endless dance, like stardust in a bright blue sky.

"What is it?"

"A gift someone gave me long ago," he said, "He told me to keep it until I found the true love of my life."

Lois sighed.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

She forced herself to look in his eyes. She wanted him to say it. Wanted him to set the words free, because only then would it be real.

"It's not because you make me stronger," he said, "Though you do. It's because… It's because when I'm with you… I believe."

A single tear weaved it's way down her cheek. It caught on her lips as she smiled. Lois slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

It fit.

Perfectly.

Taking his hand, Lois led him inside, and closed the door.

.

.

.

_~fin~_


End file.
